They are like children who sit in the marketplace and call out to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance; we sang a lament for you, but you did not weep.’
So Peter rose and went with them. When he arrived, they brought him to the upper room, and all the widows stood before him, weeping and showing him all the tunics and cloaks that Dorcas had made while she was still with them.
The sound of harpists, musicians, flutists, and trumpeters will never be heard in yoʋ again. No craftsman of any trade will ever be found in yoʋ again. The sound of a mill will never be heard in yoʋ again.